


Minecraft Meetup

by Anonymous



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Not Beta Read, Satire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-23 01:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30047925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dream and George finally meet up.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5
Collections: Anonymous





	Minecraft Meetup

**Author's Note:**

> uwu remember guys, i only ship their personas, not the real people !! uwu enjoy uwu

The wide-open field of the plains biome indicated that the village could not be far. The local villagers called it London.

Swinging his iron axe around a herd of cows to obtain some extra food for the trip, sweat dripped down Dream's chartreuse... face? It wasn't really a face - it was the shape of a face, but his real facial features were on his stomach. A birth defect, the medicine man of the Orlando village had said. It did give him one advantage over the mobs, though. His eyes, which were at nipple-level, were too low to properly look at endermen, skeletons aiming for his internal organs often just hit his cheek, and zombies, their flesh too disintegrated to bend over to eat his face, simply bit him in the part of his body he came to lovingly call his greenscreen. A true freak of nature he was, and he used to his advantage.

Every year, the citizens of Minecraft organized a competition, a speedrunning competition, and every year, he qualified to represent his village. He’d become a truly feared candidate, and with his fame came envy, but there was always one person who helped him through all the hate he received. GeorgeNotFound. Hypebeast Steve was his loving nickname. He had smooth skin, a Supreme shirt of which the lettering had faded through his intensive speedrunning training, and clout goggles. How they stuck to his face remained a mystery, as he had neither a nose nor ears. Two freaks of nature, with a mutual love for speedrunning. They had only ever seen each other at the annual competitions, but they had grown quite close over the years. 

But Dream, now retired, finally decided to visit his friend outside of the competition. And so he ran through the plains biome of the English Realm, exhausted, but excited to see his friend.

The top of the clock tower of the London village had already come insight, and he knew he couldn’t be far. Twenty more minutes or so. From there, he had to find the blacksmith and ask for a map to GeorgeNotFound’s home. London village was bigger than the other villages in the English Realm, so he couldn’t just ask around for directions. Luckily he obtained some social skills through his competitive nature, although most players were so-called Sweats, a degrading term for socially inept players who could only dream (haha, get it?) of getting on Dream’s level.

Finally arrived at the blacksmith and lost in thought, he knocked down the door of the building, where the map was already waiting for him. He grabbed it, took a quick glance around, and found a chest stashed away in a corner. Curiously, he opened it and found a couple of loaves of bread and two apples. God, was he hungry. He quickly put them in his inventory, and ran off, before the blacksmith, admittedly a rather old and pudgy villager, came running on the porch to shout after him. “Oit there lad, why you runnin’ off with me lunch?” Dream knew the old man couldn’t keep up, and he smirked as he felt the pleasant weight of his inventory being full as he navigated the map and speedran London village.

On the edge of the village, near a pond surrounding by a dozen or so clucking chickens, he found GeorgeNotFound’s residence. It was a quaint little mushroom home, which he’d told Dream plentiful about already back in their speedrunning days. He wasn’t a great builder by any means, but his mushroom home was his proudest achievement yet. Behind killing the ender dragon within forty-five minutes, of course. Dream would brag he could do it in only seventeen, but GeorgeNotFound cited Dream’s nipple eyes that he didn’t have to protect with ridiculously big glasses due to their placement. And so, a friendly rivalry started between them six years ago that grew to be a friendship that blurred the lines between platonic and romantic. 

GeorgeNotFound was already waiting in the garden of his mushroom house, holding a grey cat on a leash. Above it, simply the name ‘Cat’ floated. He was a man of few words and absurdist humor, and Dream was enamored. “George!” he exclaimed and came running up to him to give him a friendly punch, only to make it up by dropping some bread on the floor that he’d stolen earlier from the blacksmith. “Robbed some old man of his lunch for that, Georgie. The things I do for you!” 

George giggled, and his goggled almost slipped off his noseless face. “God, I’d forgot how bright you actually are,” he noted, immediately pushing the glasses snugly back to his face. It was true, in the bright sun of the more open biomes, such as the plains biome George lived in, the chartreuse of his body was especially bright, even more when contrasted with the eyesore white of his face. 

“You came here without armor?” GeorgeNotFound enquired.

Dream laughed. He’d never do something that silly. “No, I took it off a little before arriving. I wanted you to look me in the nipples when we meet outside of competitions.” 

GeorgeNotFound could not blush, but if he could, he would’ve, so instead, he just averted his gaze to change the subject. “Do you want to rest? You can set up your bed and chests in the spare bedroom, and I can pray to Callahan to make it night so you can sleep.”

“...Callahan?” Dream inquired.

“Yes, Callahan, the god with access to console who we worship here in the English Realm.” 

“Sounds good,” Dream agreed, and the pair entered the mushroom residence. Dream followed GeorgeNotFound to the spare bedroom, which looked out over the street. 

“The well is nearby, so it might be a bit noisy in the mornings,” GeorgeNotFound noted. Dream nodded, not particularly bothered by the bustling of the city, and put down his double chest in one corner, and his bed in another, before turning to his friend once again.

“So, how do we pray to this Callahan guy?”

It was not long before a message popped up in their field of vision, and GeorgeNotFound started zoning out.

[Callahan] im here  
[GeorgeNotFound] my friend from the florida realm needs to sleep  
[GeorgeNotFound] can you make it night?  
[Callahan] i could do that  
[Callahan] what is the magic word?  
[GeorgeNotFound] ...please?  
[Callahan] good job gogy

And then, darkness. The only light they saw was from the torch in the hallway and the streetlights from outside. “I’ll get going so you can rest,” GeorgeNotFound stated, about to close the door behind him.

“No, stay. Can you place your bed next to mine, please?” Dream softly asked.

George agreed, placing a blue bed next to the other’s green. Both laid down in their respective beds, in complete silence. Dream was the first to break it. “Why’d he call you Gogy?” 

“The gods and I are close,” GeorgeNotFound shrugged, “they often do me favors.”

“Loved by gods and men alike, I see,” Dream answered with his ever-present smile. 

“And you are?” 

“Just a man. No god, even though I have been accused of it. But nope, just a regular misaligned Steve,” he said, followed by an absolute guffaw, which in turn made GeorgeNotFound giggle in the way that only he could. 

How Dream had missed that giggle. And now he was here, next to him, at home. It almost felt domestic, feeling George’s blocky body next to his, the cool wind of the plains biome coming through their window cooling down the heat on forming on their cheeks. 

It felt good, he finally felt complete. As he closed his eyes and their user tags briefly disappeared, he knew that in two seconds, a new exciting day was waiting on them.

**Author's Note:**

> everything about this is satirical pls


End file.
